


A Promise

by philindas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: Two missing scenes from 4x03 to explain how Phil was able to be so calm in Miami while clearly worried about Melinda.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been stuck on Jemma yelling "I promised!" while attempting to revive May that I just had to write some coulsonjemma- and maysimmons, because I love those relationships. Obviously, spoilers for 4x03 within!

He has to be with her.

He has his orders to go to Miami, and he knows, logically, it’s the right call for Director Mace to have made. But his chest feels like it’s lined with lead at the thought of not being by Melinda’s side- what if something goes wrong? What if Jemma can’t save her? What if he’s not there and he loses her?

He’s still standing in the lab, fighting an internal war between his heart and his duty, when Jemma comes skidding back in- Nathanson is behind her, carrying two cases, and Phil swallows. The scientist stops in front of him- she’s breathless from dashing around the lab, and he can see the internalized panic she’d learned to hide so well behind her eyes.

“Coulson…” she starts, but he just shakes his head, swallowing thickly.

“You have a plan?” he asks, and she nods jerkily, opening her mouth to continue- he raises a hand, stopping her with a shake of his head. “Just promise me.”

Jemma swallows, ducking her head before she brushes her hair out of her face. “Anything, sir.”

“Please just bring her back,” he means for his voice to be strong, but it comes out broken and hoarse, the weight of the possibilities hanging on his every word. “Bring her back to me.”

Jemma steps forward, placing her hand on his bicep and giving him a tremulous smile, lower lip shaking. “I promise, sir.”

Her name is called then and her head jerks up before she moves back into action, leaving him to stand in the middle of the lab, heart in his throat and eyes burning with tears he’d never shed in public.

_

She leaves May to wash her face and slips her phone out of her pocket; she selects the fourth speed dial and lifts it to her ear, relief loosening her shoulders.

“What happened?” are the first words out of his mouth, and she smiles.

“She’s perfectly fine now, sir. All brain function is normal, and she’s not seeing the faces anymore,” she reports, heart twisting at the heavy sigh of relief from the other end. “May is back to her stubborn self.”

“Thank you, Jemma,” Coulson’s voice is so thick with relief her heart breaks a little at how much pain he must have been in before now. A bit like how she’d felt when Fitz had stayed in his coma longer than expected, she supposed. “She’s awake now? Can I talk to her?”

“She’s getting cleaned up at the moment,” Jemma said, casting her gaze down the hall. “I’ll have her call you when she’s done in a bit- how did the blackout go?”

“More Watch Dogs,” he answer, sighing a bit. “Director’s decided it’s time we came out of the shadows- might want to turn on the television if you have one.”

“Will do, sir,” Jemma answered, just as the bathroom door began to open. “I have to go- I’ll have her call you.”

May walks out of the bathroom- she winces a little, fingers probing the base of her skull, and Jemma moves to her side.

“My head is killing me,” she says, keeping her voice low, and Jemma frowns.

“The director did smash your head against a wall yesterday,” she tells her, and Melinda’s eyebrow raises, though she says nothing. “Let me get you some ibuprofen. And turn on the telly- there’s some big announcement coming.”

Jemma disappears into the kitchen to grab the medicine, and when she walks back into the main room, the television is on, Director Mace standing at the podium. Melinda’s watching with thinly veiled disgust, though she turns when Jemma walks in. She takes the meds, and as the director starts to speak, she looks at Jemma again.

“I know he’s called,” she starts, and Jemma hands her the phone without another word. The older woman’s eyes softened before she scrolled to the number, holding the phone to her ear. Her whole body relaxes a little when the other end picks up. “I feel cranky.”

Jemma smiles to herself.


End file.
